


SASO Bonus Round 5 Fills

by Sotong_sotong



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Blood and Gore, Consensual Violence, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Rule 63, Spirits, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7723036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotong_sotong/pseuds/Sotong_sotong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fills (some related, some aren't, but will be indicated) I did for Sports Anime Shipping Olympics 2016 Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore. Pairings, characters, and tags will be added as I go on!</p><p><b>Chapter 1:</b> rain god!Oikawa + human!Iwaizumi<br/><b>Chapter 2:</b> merman!Oikawa + human!Iwaizumi<br/><b>Chapter 3:</b> witch!Oikawa + apothecary owner!Iwaizumi (rule 63)<br/><b>Chapter 4:</b> sakura tree spirit!Oikawa + shrine tender!Iwaizumi<br/><b>Chapter 5:</b> time travellers!Iwaoi</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. raindrops (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

**Author's Note:**

> Each fill is mostly drabble-sized and averages around 500 words (though you'll see the occasional spikes in word count lmao), enjoy!

There is nothing more ineffectual than trying to get his fickle boyfriend of a rain god to stop using the weather as a means of catching his attention, Hajime discovers.

He points his umbrella towards the darkening sky, eyes narrowing as he grits out, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Unfortunately, waving a Godzilla-printed umbrella as menacingly he can at the clouds— and, in extension, their ruler – doesn’t really constitutes itself as a threat to Oikawa, so all Hajime achieves is the distant rumble of thunder and a splatter of raindrops to his face, which is _ridiculous_ because it hasn’t even started raining properly yet, cementing the fact that Oikawa is purposely singling Hajime out as the target for his mischief.

The wind blows wilder, almost as if its howling and whistling at his predicament, breezily taunting: _too bad, so sad, look at poor wet Hajime!_

A vein pops up on Hajime’s forehead; well, two can play this game, and he’s definitely not going to be a pushover. He grabs the hem of his jersey and pulls it up to wipe his dripping face, exposing a tantalizing view of his torso— especially his abs, in particular. 

Previously strong in its gust, the wind now stutters as his shirt rides higher, higher, and higher, abruptly dying when it stops short of revealing his chest.

Inwardly amused, Hajime tilts his head upwards and shoots a cocky smirk while releasing the hem in his grasp. It unceremoniously flops back down, cutting off any further sight of his body. “You actually fell for it, you dumbass.”

Lightning flashes overhead. A warning. Or, in a certain rain god’s case, a pouting.

Hajime scoffs, “What? Can’t handle a taste of your own medicine?” Then, he spreads his arms, and his cheeks redden the slightest bit. “Get over here yourself if you want my attention so badly. Don’t expect me to pamper thin air, okay?”

Nothing happens for a full minute, making Hajime feel like an idiot for standing at the entrance gate of his home with his arms wide open; he’s about to put them down and slump to his room in annoyance, when the black clouds above part themselves, letting a ray of white shine through and project itself onto Hajime’s chest. 

“W-wai--!!” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence in time for a bundle of brown hair, gangly limbs, and teal robes, at that moment, chooses to hurtle down following the ray’s line of direction, resulting in a collision with Hajime. Meeting the ground is an inevitable conclusion because having an armful of rain god doesn’t mean the laws of inertia will slacken anytime soon for a mere human.

Slowly, carefully, Oikawa unfurls himself akin to a paper Japanese water flower placed in a pond. He gently bumps the top of his head on Hajime’s chin. The smile on his face is electric. “Thanks for catching me again, Iwa-chan!”

Hearing that makes Hajime snort, but his fingers stroke along Oikawa’s nape, and he buries his nose into his lover’s hair, smiling when he smells the familiar tones of flooded earth and sharp ozone.

(Oikawa is Hajime’s very own storm.)

Hajime replies, “It’s hard to miss when you fall like your damn raindrops, Kusokawa.”


	2. meal (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning tags: mentions of gore and violence, future character death

“The bottom of the ocean isn’t as quiet as they say,” Tooru tells Hajime.

Hajime tilts his head and considers what Tooru has just said. He runs his fingers along Tooru’s back, nails catching onto the scales littering the lower half of it, and takes care to not accidentally pull any of them off. “What is it like then? It can’t be that noisy down there with only fishes and reefs around.”

Tooru preens under Hajime’s attention, floating closer so that it’s easier for the other to touch him. “Wrong, Iwa-chan! The ocean is home to many other creatures.” He turns around and lies his head on Hajime’s lap, uncaring of the water dripping from his hair that soaks a good part of the human’s pants. “I’m not the only merman that exists in this world, you know.”

Hajime can only close his eyes and sigh. “Good to know that you’re not the last Mohican of your species, Tooru. Are the rest as tiresome as you?”

It takes more than a beat for an answer to come. The sea wind blows cold, despite the afternoon, when Tooru’s voice finally drifts up. His tone is quiet and matter-of-fact. “Well, some of them _do_ eat humans like you, Iwa-chan.”

“And what’s stopping you from eating me?”

“What makes you think I’m not going to be eating you?” Tooru’s head rears forth, his stare as pointed as a pirate’s dagger boring into Hajime’s stuttering heart. The merman is dangerous like this, but also so very beautiful; it’s all too easy to be drawn into the abyss, and the worst thing is Hajime finds himself not minding it. 

There is not a single bit of trepidation within him towards this prospect at all.

“Then, you’d better make sure I’m the best damn thing you’ve ever had to eat, idiot. Don’t let any part of me go to waste.”

Tooru licks the salt crystallising on his lips and bares his teeth, each sharp row glinting under the sunlight. “I’ll tear into your veins to lick up every drop of blood and clean off all your bones and organs. There’ll be nothing left of you then, Iwaizumi Hajime.” He breaks this display of menace, though, by wrinkling his nose. “Your hair might call for an exception because keratin is always hard to digest.”

Hajime laughs and pulls Tooru back onto his lap. “Fair enough. I trust you’ll make some kind of supreme feast out of me when the time comes.”

“You’ll be an ace, alright.” Tooru hums. “To be honest, you’ll be more of a buffet, like _Hunky Meat Galore!!!_ or something as you humans so like to name your gorging marathons.”

“Oh, so you think I’m hunky?” Hajime gets a face full of sea water for that, with great thanks to a flick of a certain merman’s tail.

“Nah,” Tooru chortles sly and wonderful, “I think you’re chunky.”

 

(In the end, it all boils down to who’s more the fool: the human that chooses to be the prey or the predator who plays with his food?)


	3. hatful of sky (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nod to Terry Pratchett's Tiffany Aching series, really-- namely _A Hatful of Sky_ and _I Shall Wear Midnight_.

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!” Tooru’s small hands come up tug on the hem of Hajime’s shirt. “How tall and how pointy do you think a witch’s hat must be for the whole world to take note of her?”

Hajime’s in the middle of catching beetles for her terrarium, but she pauses anyway to entertain Tooru’s latest question. “Why is a dumb old hat your measuring stick for world domination?” She shrugs and bops her bug net on the brown curls topping Tooru’s head. “How about something cooler like horns?”

“I’m trying to be a fledgling in magic, Iwa-chan, not some kind of demon spawn!” Tooru whines, tugging on Hajime’s shirt so hard that Hajime nearly topples towards her. She pointedly ignores Hajime’s resigned _you sure do act like one sometimes though_ and sucks her bottom lip in for a mighty pout before straightening her back and puffing her chest out. “Just you watch, I’ll become the greatest witch of our time and I’ll wear a hat as high as my reputation then!”

“Will it match the heights of your pride as well?” Hajime lazily comments, snickering at Tooru’s squawks and indignation. With that said, she brushes a strand of hair behind Tooru’s ear, and grins with all the faith and warmth she has for her best friend. “Do it. Be the best thing this world will ever be lucky enough to have and wear whatever ugly hat you want.”

Tooru’s answering smile lights something in Hajime’s chest, a tiny something that dances amongst the quickening beats of her heart, going _hello, hello, I’ve been here for quite a while but it’s alright, you’ve finally noticed_. It’s not entirely unpleasant. In fact, it feels good, and Hajime is giddy as she tries to figure out the connection between Tooru and this new feeling.

“Just to make things even, I’ll be…I’ll be the best insect collector in this world too, so you can always come to me if you ever need — I don’t know, roach wings?— for spells and shit.” Slowly, Hajime mutters, eyes not quite meeting Tooru’s own bright ones while the back of her neck grows hotter.

Slim fingers find their way into Hajime’s palm and they curl there neatly, as if they’ve found a place to belong. “Iwa-chan, I hope you keep to your promises,” the quirks of Tooru’s lips sharpen ever so sweetly, “because I always keep to mine.”

 

*

Years later, Oikawa Tooru, distinguished witch and leading member of the local Seijou coven, bangs into Iwaizumi Hajime’s apothecary, breathless and windblown hair quite a sight, but when Hajime looks up from her work, she singsongs just like she did when they were fifteen. “Iwa-chan, I think I’ve changed my mind!”

Hajime snorts, leaning over to tweak Tooru’s nose. “What now?”

Tooru kisses Hajime’s cheek in return as everything about her comes alive; this is her time and she says: “I shall wear midnight and a hatful of sky.”


	4. sakura tree (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

“It’s a shame that you can’t leave this tree,” Iwaizumi says, attention divided between his task of sweeping the shrine’s entrance and the figure sitting on a bough of the thousand year old sakura tree still standing strong beside it. 

“Trying to chase me out?” Tooru snidely inquires, and swings his feet, letting one of his _geta_ slip off and drop on Iwaizumi’s head; the smirk on his face widens when he hears a yelp of a pain and a hastily cut off swear. He rests against the tree’s trunk, feels its knobbly texture welcoming his back like a bed. “That’s not very nice of you, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime bends down to retrieve the fallen _geta_. He looks up, glaring at Tooru. “What’s not very nice here is _you_ dropping things on people’s head without their permission.”

“The rain doesn’t need any permission to fall, does it?” Tooru drawls. The sakura tree seemingly shivers in the afternoon gust, almost as if it concurs with his words and is shaking with laughter, possibly finding great humour in Iwaizumi’s predicament. “So, how is that any different for an object that randomly descends from the sky?”

“Don’t try being all philosophical just to throw me off track,” the shrine keeper scoffs, rearing his arm back, and launches the _geta_ right toward’s Tooru’s direction. 

He catches it easily with one hand, for the wind had swirled, encircling him in a protective cocoon of dense air that slowed the _geta’s_ trajectory, and, ultimately, forced it to come to a floating stop in front of him. With a grin stretched wide on his face, Tooru wears it while replying, “Thanks for saving me the trouble of asking one of the _youkai_ to get this back for me!”

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi resumes sweeping briskly, gathering fallen leaves and sakura petals into a pile that is to be burnt later. “If you could get off that tree, I’d take you to go see the fireworks during Tanabata. I think you’d like them very much.”

Tooru waves dismissively. “The view up here is plenty good already. I bet my perch is better than what any human will be able to see from down there.” His gaze slides away though, and Iwaizumi doesn’t miss it. “I’m not missing out on anything, really, Iwa-chan.”

“Who said you are?” Iwaizumi counters. He’s finally done and has set the broom aside; he too leans against the trunk of the sakura tree for a breather, relaxing as a breeze tickles his air and ears, appreciating the mildness of the day. “I just wanted to take you out on,” he coughs, “a date.”

“A youkai and a human on a _date_ ; how preposterous!” Tooru sniffs, but his smile is like fire, its warmth spreads to tip Iwaizumi’s lips upwards as well. “It’s like a forbidden romance out of some pretentious novel. Do you want me to drop my other _geta_ to knock you back into your senses?”

“ _Ha_ , that’s rich coming from someone as bratty as you,” Iwaizumi laughs. He places a hand on the sakura tree respectfully. “May I climb up?”

The tree spirit merely pats the spot beside him on the branch he’s sitting on. “If you can make it, that is.”

“Try me.” And that’s all Iwaizumi says, for now, as he begins his ascend.


	5. time (Iwaizumi/Oikawa)

“How much time do you have left?”

Tooru checks his wristwatch and sighs. “Just around twenty minutes.” He glances towards Iwaizumi. “What about you, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, slightly rueful as he unclasps his watch and holds it up. “I’ve got fifteen.”

Upon hearing that, Tooru groans, whining, “That damned five minutes difference! When will it ever stop being the bane of us?!”

“Some things just never change; just like your tendency to blow things out of proportion,” his friend casually comments while rummaging his knapsack. His hand comes out with a journal and he quickly sets to jotting the details of their current coincidental meeting down. “Just learn to accept it, Kusokawa.”

Tooru’s aware that what’s inevitable will remain so, but if anything, studying and experimenting with time travel has definitely screwed in the necessity of _carpe diem_ to the back of his mind. He grumbles, “You, of all people, should understand it’s never as simple as that. Every single minute— seconds even— counts!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Iwa-chan, stop tuning me out.” He’s a little bit irritated as Iwaizumi continues to ignore him, but whatever; he’d rather not waste this small pocket of still time they’re lucky enough to be able to collide into simultaneously. Tooru rarely gets to see his friend otherwise, since the two of them are usually immersed in different timelines: Tooru flies to the future while Iwaizumi lingers in the past.

(Before they got into this whole thing, Hanamaki had looked at them, confused, asking, “You both usually go everywhere together, so what’s up with the sudden split?”

Tooru had laughed it off— because he didn’t know the answer to that either— but Hajime—Hajime had kept silent.

Tooru wishes he hadn’t; it only reminds him of the noiseless slipping of years to be spent apart.)

Something soft whacks his face and Tooru falls out of his thoughts. “Can’t you just pass me stuff normally? I’m not your personal dartboard, you know.”

“Look, it’s milk bread. I got it when I landed back in Seijou.”

Tooru gapes at him. “You promised you wouldn’t go back that far!”

“I’ve gone and I’ve came back. Deal with it.”

“That’s not the point!” An undefined lump gets caught in his throat, and Tooru wants nothing more than to spit it out, along with his worries and fears and, and— his feelings for Hajime.

(His watch indicates they only have five minutes left.)

Iwaizumi stands up. “I’ve gotta go.” A tear appears in the space of dimensional air behind him; he’s about to step through it until Tooru grabs the edge of his jacket and he pauses to look backwards.

Tootu has, ironically, always been the more tight-lipped one when it comes to weaker moments like this. He closes his eyes and gives in. “Remember to miss me, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi flicks his forehead and pulls away, calling out over his shoulder, “I’ll get you more milk bread next time!”

Then, the tear swallows him up.

(Tooru doesn’t want more milk bread; he just wants more time with Iwaizumi Hajime.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Concrits and comments are always welcomed! :D


End file.
